A Cozy Mystery Written for
Jana DeLeon's Miss Fortune Series at Kindle Worlds
Mayor Celia Arceneaux orchestrates a special holiday surprise. She wants to celebrate Christmas by giving back to Sinful’s most unappreciated citizens—the town’s elementary school teachers.
Handing down an AOO, also known as the Arceneaux Official Order, Celia calls upon friends and foes to carry out her plans. Gertie and Ida Belle are willing to help, but Fortune doesn’t share their enthusiasm. Taking a temporary post at the school library, the former CIA assassin braces for Christmas and everything the season holds.
From trimming trees to snow on the ground, Sinful residents will celebrate a Christmas to remember. That is, until small town Louisiana makes national headlines thanks to a school shooting that isn’t what it seems.
It
was as quiet as it might have been in a confessional booth. Not that I’d been
in a confessional booth. Since my arrival in Sinful, I’d become a devoted
Baptist, which was a better choice for someone like me.
Given
my career, I was afraid that the Catholics wouldn’t want me, mainly because of
the confession aspect. If I started listing out my sins, the whole charade
would take several days. My acknowledgement of sin would turn into a full
declaration of guilt which would inevitably supersede denial before it would
lead to a request for forgiveness.
The
whole process would take days, weeks even. A regular rotation of priests would
be required and that same question would hang in the balance: “Is she still here?” Followed by, “How many
sins can one woman commit?”
An
assassin carried around quite a few.
I’d
actually had nightmares about confessing my sins so I was relieved to discover
that Gertie and Ida Belle attended the Baptist Church. Not only did we stand out
as the current pudding wars champions, but I never worried about finding an
“Out of Order” or “Out to Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner” sign on a confessional
booth. Baptists didn’t have sinners’ stalls and if they did, they hadn’t
mentioned it to me.
“Who are you? Where’s Mrs. Weems?” The
questions jolted me to the present. “Only real teachers are supposed to take
off today. She doesn’t look like a librarian. That’s because she isn’t a real librarian.” All heads turned. “Where
are you from? Will you be here all week? Who are you again?”
“Great,”
I grumbled, facing Carter and ignoring the mix of ricocheting questions. “Why
don’t you take the first part of class?”
“You’ll
be fine,” Carter mouthed.
I
bit back a groan, but quickly decided that the good deputy had just provided an
out and didn’t know it. I’d gladly turn over the class and leave the last
forty-five minutes for Carter. This particular bunch looked like an interesting
crowd. They would appreciate a deputy’s monologue.
“I’m
Fortune….I mean…Miss Morrow.”
One
rambunctious little boy with red hair and freckles stood up and wiggled around
as he asked, “Can we call you by your first name?” He kept his eyes downcast,
one hand on the table, and rotated left to right. “Where are you from, Fortune?”
“It’s
not Fortune. It’s Miss Morrow.” For
some reason, I glanced at Carter right at that very moment. He shot me a
crooked smile. He didn’t think I could handle this young crowd. An unspoken
challenge was on the table.
“You’re
on.” I mouthed the words, knowing that Carter would understand. Pacing in front
of the students, I began again. “My name is Miss Morrow. You can call me…” I
spun around for theatrics. “Miss Morrow.”
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